He was out of bed before five every day. The habit of military discipline kept him an early riser, even when there was nothing to get up for. The warm body splayed across the bed muttered shifted, sheets slipping down to give an excellent view of exactly what he was missing. There was nothing he'd rather do than spend the morning making Ed scream. Even so, he'd get up and slip into the shower, enjoying the brief illusion that he could still control any of his impulses around Edward. Even if it meant he always had to take cold showers.